


organic and the apparition

by thecraplan



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: AU, College AU, M/M, Possible smut later, a bit slow burn, erik doesn't like christine in this one, might add some Christine/Meg if i don't get overwhelmed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-05-12 07:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19224973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecraplan/pseuds/thecraplan
Summary: your typical school au. Raoul is a transfer student to an arts college. He reunites with Christine, his childhood friend. Christine likes Raoul, but he likes Erik and this is a story on how he makes the brooding, loveless phantom fall in love with him. (might add a bit of Meg/Christine if I can).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it feels cringe or boring, im not very good at multiple chapters, and a college au no less.

The new college wasn’t a bad idea. He, unlike Philippe, wasn’t into business management as much, and much preferred investing time into the arts. Raoul shifts his bag higher up on one shoulder, pulling at his jacket to straighten it before entering the office.

There was a lady there, typical wiry glasses perched on a too-big nose as she types on a keyboard. Raoul stands there for a few seconds before flashing a charming smile.

“Uhm hi. I’m a transfer student?”

The lady looks up slowly, eyes sliding up the boy who begins to frown. “Name?”

“Raoul, de Chagny.”

He fidgets uncomfortably as the lady does more typing before getting up to print a slip. She hands it to him without looking at him. “Take this with you for today, welcome to Lleroy.”

Raoul takes it gratefully and slips out. It had his schedule on it, and a rather complicated map on how to get to where. He checks the time – half past nine, he was already late. He starts down the hallway looking at the timetable. It was theatre studies for first period. He makes it there as quick as he can.

‘Room 1-B’ it said. He slides the front door open and as per usual, is greeted with the stares of around twenty students. He puts on an easy smile, shaking blonde curls out of his face as he walks in. “Hi, transfer student?” he says as he passes the slip to show the professor. The professor takes the slip to check and hands it to him, telling him to take a seat. Raoul glances around, and takes the seat beside a girl with tightly tied blonde hair. He offers smiles to the neighbouring students and starts to take out a pad of paper.

“Hi there what’s your name?”

“Raoul.”

“Hi, I’m Meg.” The girl, Meg, gives him a smile. He nods at her. “Just a heads up, this is a boring lecture. You’ll hate it”, Meg makes a face at the professor, “I assume you’re in theatre as well?”

Raoul nods, “yes, not much of a performer, I personally prefer management, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“Well”, she gives him a once-over, “the girls there would love you.” A second later she leaned in and added, “probably the boys too.”

Raoul chuckles. He liked her already.  
  


* * *

  
He was fast friends with Meg. She was easy to talk to. They had compared timetables and it seemed they had almost the same schedules. The only difference was that he had arts management as one of his subjects, and she had dance.

After first period they had a half hour break. Raoul spent the time wandering around the school and finding his locker. He puts in some books first and when he closes his locker, he yells.

“Meg! When did you get here? And why are you smiling like that?”

The girl puts her arm around him and swerves them in the direction of their next class (probably). “Well, I need to confirm something. Do you know Christine Daae?”

“Christine Daae? Yes, she was a childhood friend. Why?”

Meg squeals softly. “Well, Christine goes here! She’s literally my best friend and she talks about you all the time! I met her just now and she said that yes, you were the Raoul de Chagny she was talking about and I had to confirm it.”

Raoul’s eyes widen and turns to grasp Meg’s shoulders. “Christine goes here? That’s wonderful. I hope I can see her soon.”

“You will. She’s having next period with us.”

He smiles. Transferring to this college was probably the best thing that could have happened to him.

* * *

  
They had theatre next. Raoul had to introduce himself, unlike first period. He speaks quickly, saying his name and where he transferred from, giving everyone a smile. It was a nice smile, he knew, and the whispers around the room confirmed it.

He settles down beside Meg and another girl, which he soon realises is Christine. He drops his jaw dramatically and opens his arms, where Christine laughs and embraces him. He can hear Meg make a sound somewhere beside him, and is not less observant to the glances from the other students.

Christine has not changed much, her features were more defined, and her figure taller, but besides that, she still kept a gorgeous smile. “Raoul! It’s so great to see you again! I never thought we’d meet.”

“Same here”, he clasps her hands, “and here I was feeling like I’d possibly have made a wrong choice. Christine, everything is better around you.”

The girl giggles quietly and shifts so that they faced the teacher, who had been speaking for the past few minutes and they didn’t know what she said. Meg squeezed herself between them. “You two are adorable. And Raoul, I wasn’t joking when I said the theatre would love you.”  
She gives multiple side glances to the different groups of people sitting around them. The girls were all giggling behind their hands and whispering with large grins on their faces. The boys appeared unaffected, but even Raoul could see them staring.

He smiled, feeling his face heat up slightly. Christine laughs and moves to place her hand on Raoul’s forearm. “Of course, he’s so handsome.” She laughs as Raoul brushes his hair back, bashful.

The teacher, noticing the lack of attention, rolls her eyes and claps her hands twice, loudly. “Since none of you have listened, I’ll repeat it again. We’re acting out Hamlet, Act two, scene of your choice. Pair up or in groups it doesn’t matter. I just want to see your ability to perform, and your stage presence. Are we alright?”

Everyone agrees and begins to shuffle around. Before Raoul can get a word out, both girls link their arms through his and tug him to a side.

“We’re doing this together.” Christine says decidedly. Raoul just shrugs and smiles. Meg groans beside them. “Mister, you need to stop. Smiling. It’s so sweet,” she pokes his cheek, “and it just makes me love you more.”

Raoul laughs loudly as they settle down to start working. He glances around, trying to get people’s faces. As he looks around, he spots a person by the piano. He was dressed in complete black. It was quite creepy honestly. The man, boy, whatever, had half his face obscured in the shadows and was staring quite intensely at Raoul. He could see that half covered by an ivory-like mask. He startles, and shifts a little behind Christine. He grabs her arm and whispers, “who’s that?”

Christine makes a questioning sound and follows Raoul’s gaze.

“That’s Erik.”

Raoul turns to give her a stare. That was all she could say?

Christine nods and goes back to looking up the different scenes. “He’s quite a strange fellow. Doesn’t talk, sits there all the time.”

“People would’ve bullied him if he didn’t look as menacing as he did half the time. And who knows what’s behind that mask.” Meg chimes in.

Raoul raises an eyebrow. “He wears it all the time?”

“Yes, and the black clothes as well, no matter what season. Everyone calls him the _phantom_ here because he’s just like one.”

 _Phantom?_ A fitting name for someone who was silent, haunting and brooding. Raoul bites his lip and turns his attention to their work. He can still feel his gaze on him. It was a like a burning sensation on his back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written on phone...zz

“So I heard Mr Reyers is hosting the masquerade ball down at fifth street.” Christine says as she peels open a sandwich.

“Really? I heard he was manager at that opera house but I never thought it’d be true.”

“If we get a good grade maybe we might be able to perform there. Imagine it, imagine us, on that stage with all the lights..and the costumes?” Christine swoons, closing her eyes as she bites into her sandwich.

Meg leans against her, eyes closed. Christine jerks her shoulder. “What? You got no sleep last night?”

Her friend groans and nods, turning her head further into Christine’s shoulder. “Yes! I had a history paper due at two and I managed to finish it guess when?”

Raoul raises an eyebrow, pushing over his coffee cup. “At four in the morning?” He guesses.

“At five! I wake up at five! I swear I literally got no sleep.” She accepts the cup and cracks the lid open, inhaling it deeply and sighing.

Raoul smiles sympathetically and leans back in his seat. He meets Christine’s eyes and she raises her eyebrows. “So how’s school so far?”

“Better than my last one.”

She hums thoughtfully, and leans across the table. “Anybody you’re interested in? I know half the ladies here would love to ask you out.” She says, eyes crossing to every corner of the cafeteria.

Raoul scoffs. His eyes roam across the cafeteria. Well, she wasn’t wrong. Almost all the girls were glancing at their area. He’d received at least a dozen confession notes in his locker by midweek.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t fond of them, but, well, he wasn’t fond of them. He didn’t really...like girls. If you know what that means.

He licks his lips, looking around. There. In the corner, again in the shadowed part of the cafeteria, the phantom again. Raoul was pleasantly surprised when he saw him. He was alone, obviously. But he was here, with them, seemingly blending into this rowdy, artistic clan of students. 

He stares a little longer than he should and when he feels eyes gaze back at him, he startles, head jerking away immediately as he claws the coffee cup out of Meg’s iron grip. Raoul tilts his head back and lets the bitter liquid flow through his system.

When he looks back, there is no one there anymore.

 

**

 

Theatre. Theatre was the only class that Erik ever saw him in. Which was a shame, because the boy was so deliciously naive. There was a gentle sincerity to him that no other student had.

And the staring. He kept staring.

Clearly the mask served a purpose, which was to hide something he didn’t wish to share so why was the other boy so damn annoying?

Also, his eyes, his lips, his face made his insides do a weird flipping kind of action and it was uncomfortable.

Now here he was at theatre again. Erik was watching as Raoul sat beside Giry and Daae.

“Thank you for all those wonderful performances last week. Today we’ll be starting on your project for the final grade.” The teacher looks around the room. “Now I know you all hate being trapped with people you don’t want to work with, or don’t have chemistry with, so I’m allowing you all to choose partners. Please choose wisely, you’ll be working with them for the rest of the year.”

Her talking was drowned out already by the time she finished. People were scattered across the room pairing up.

Christine looks between Meg and Raoul with a conflicted frown. Raoul laughs at her, gently pushing her to Meg while he puts a little distance between them.

“You ladies go together. You’ve got great chemistry. Besides, I’m sure there are other people who need partners.”

“Are you sure?” Christine asks while linking her arm with Meg, “we can ask if we can do it in threes?”

Raoul shakes his head. He glances around and yes, there are people who are standing around a little uncomfortably. There are also the girls, who, clearly paired up, are giving him glances like they’d give up their partners any second.

He blinks, and then walks away as quietly as he can. He walks past the phantom, who looks up from his place by the piano.

That gives Raoul an idea.

Before he can hesitate, he stops and puts his hands on the piano top. “Hi.”

The phantom moves his face out of the dark, and Raoul can see one side of his face. The flesh side. It was clean and rather chiseled, with soft dips and rises where his cheekbone and eyebrow peeked out from. He raises one visible eyebrow at Raoul but doesn’t say anything otherwise.

“You’re a student too right? Would you like to pair up?”

This clearly surprised the phantom, whose eyes widen. He sees his eye flicker over behind Raoul, most probably to see the others’ expressions. Raoul didn’t need to look to see that they were probably shocked. But what did he care.

He blocks the phantom’s view by moving directly in front of him. Then he smiles at him patiently.

The phantom stares at him. He looks thoughtful. His eyes gaze unblinkingly at him. Raoul starts to feel uncomfortable under the intense amber gaze. He licks his lips, feet tapping the wooden floor. “You don’t have to say yes.”

“I simply fear you may have made a...questionable choice.”

Wow. His voice was, wow. Raoul swallows. His voice was...quite otherworldly. It was smooth, warm, with a slight lilt to it, like he was from the Victorian age or something. His voice filled Raoul. It wasn’t loud, quite soft honestly, but it came from deep within the person. It was very nice.

Raoul quickly recovers and coughs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I know what you think but frankly, I don’t care and I’d rather pair with you or that dude over there”, he nods at the shady looking student with rumpled clothes and tangled hair that was seemingly unwashed for days, “than anyone else.”

A few seconds go by and Raoul can feel himself get more jittery with each second that passes when the phantom stares at him.

“Okay.”

With that reply, he feels much of the tension and anxiety slip from his body and he sighs, sagging slightly onto the piano bench beside him.

The phantom clearly never had anyone sit beside him before. He flinches quite intensely away from Raoul, so much that he is literally falling off the bench. 

Raoul can’t help but smile. He shifts away amusedly so that the phantom can move back to his spot. Raoul tears his gaze away from his mystery partner and back to the others, who were settling down with their pairs.

The teacher gives out instructions. Raoul doesn’t pay attention. First he glances at Christine and Meg, who throw him jaw-dropped looks and raised eyebrows. Raoul shrugs his shoulders and smiles. He’ll tell them why later. Then his gaze drifts to the others. Some are bickering between themselves and others flash them quiet, curious glances.

Raoul steals a glance at the phantom, who was looking back at him. He smiles when he sees him stare, and leans just a fraction closer.

“So what’s your name?”

“...Erik.”

“Cool. I’m Raoul.” He gives him a charming smile. Erik hesitates for awhile, but his lips twitch slightly and that’s enough for Raoul.

They snap out of that bubble when the noise level around them increases. Raoul looks around. Shit. He hadn’t heard a word of what the teacher spoke.

He turns to Erik (fitting name by the way). “Uh, what did she say?”

“Do an act on one of these.” He lifts up a sheet between his forefinger and thumb, right in front of Raoul’s face. Raoul’s eyebrows raise higher and higher as he reads through the sheet.

“Why didn’t I get one?”

Erik tilts his head slightly. An indication that he didn’t know either. Raoul sighs and takes the paper.

“Nevermind. Uh, how about the topic on...identity?”

Erik’s gaze is a pleasant pain. They stare at each other for awhile, before Erik takes the sheet and puts it on the piano.

“Only if I can compose the music.”

“We’re singing?”

“ _You’re_ singing. I’m not going to do the preposterous typical play where the protagonist saves the antagonist from his frivolous ways.”

“Ok fine. Musical act then. I’ll sing.” Raoul sighs, “but you ought to know I seriously suck at singing.”

“Then why’re you in theatre?” Erik retorts.

It wasn’t really an insult. It was just a question. And frankly, Raoul didn’t know the answer. He liked theatre. More specifically he liked watching theatre. But he never really thought about why he came to theatre anyway.

He shrugs and smiles. Erik makes a noise reminiscent of a snort and Raoul lets out a chuckle.

This was okay.

 

**

 

“What was that?!”

They file out of the studio, Christine immediately grabbing Raoul’s elbow and pulling him away.

“You can’t go next period until you tell.”

“What’s there to tell?” He says as he goes down the hallway to his locker.

“Everything?” Meg says, shaking her head with questioning eyes as she appears on his other side.

Raoul keeps up a slight smirk as he opens his locker. He pulls out a few notebooks, switching them with those in his bag as his two friends continue to shoot questions.

“So how was it?”

“Was he frightening?”

“What did his voice sound like?”

“Did you see his face?”

Raoul clicks his locker shut and leans against it while he cocks a brow at them. Christine groans and slaps his shoulder gently. “Tell! Stop looking all cocky.”

He concedes. “Okay. It was fine. I didn’t see his face, it wasn’t awkward, or scary, he was pretty normal.”

“And?”

“And his voice was..it was..nice. Quite nice. Yeah.” He nods as he continues muttering to himself.

“Why’d you go with him? There were clearly so many other choices.”

They start down the hallway again to their respective classes. Christine throws him an accusatory glance, which Raoul swerved around to avoid.

“He seemed nice.” He shrugged, “besides, he was a better choice than anyone else.” Raoul smiles at them before entering his class.

 

**

 

After classes ended, it was around five. Raoul closes his locker, hefting his bag up on his shoulder. Everyone had mostly left, save for a couple of teachers.

Christine had an external class to attend to and Meg had more or less disappeared, saying she needed to help her mom with something. So that left Raoul mostly alone.

He didn’t really want to go back home. It wasn’t that he hated his family or any of that cliche shit. He just didn’t feel like going home yet. He goes up to the studio, hoping to catch a little quiet.

The studio was sadly occupied. He could hear someone playing the piano. Raoul pushes the door slightly open.

Huh. It was Erik.

Raoul stares, and listens. It was a beautiful composition. Not something played from memory or something famous like Chopin or Tchaikovsky. The music was...breathtaking honestly. Not what he expected from a typical college student. Unless Erik was a prodigy, to which Raoul wouldn’t be surprised.

His music made Raoul hurt. Yet it made his heart sing. It was like running on air with no oxygen. The key signatures kept changing, the tempo never a constant for a long time. It reverberated in his insides. Raoul closes his eyes, lets himself exist in the uncomfortable pleasure of Erik’s music.

When the song ends, it leaves him feeling empty.

“Come in.”

Raoul startles and pushes the door wider to reveal himself. He grins sheepishly, embarrassed at being caught. How did Erik even know he was there anyway?

Also, why did he always stare? He was staring right now with those, unbelievably gorgeous eyes. What was he looking at?

Raoul, yeah, but what about him?

He feels a little self-conscious, and looks down at his shredded jeans and white shirt. The neckline was a bit low, but it wasn’t too revealing right? He runs a hand through his hair. Why was he even thinking about his appearance in front of Erik? He didn’t care what people thought about him much.

Raoul stands at a distance. He didn’t want to spook Erik any more than he already did earlier. He nods and points at the piano.

“That’s really good.”

Erik looks up from the keys with a raised brow. “Lets hear it.”

Raoul grins at the invitation, dragging a chair to sit opposite Erik. He drops his bag and flips the chair so that he rested his arms on the backrest.

“I think I came in around the middle? That part was soft, light. Almost like something from a romantic scene. Then it shifts into this really exhilarating, fast-paced melody with the higher pitch doing...scales? That part was really good too. But it’s a little rushed.” 

“Rushed how?” Erik puts his fingers back on the keys and replays the part slowly.

Raoul listens with parted lips and closes his eyes. When he feels the transition he taps the chair, “there.” He opens his eyes again and watches as Erik’s fingers slow down, replaying the melody again this time, instead of entering the next part like he did before.

Raoul bites his lip and smiles. “That’s nicer. In my opinion, of course.” He shrugs his shoulders and leans forward on the chair. 

“So...what’re you doing here at five anyway?”

Erik doesn’t reply for awhile. Raoul just about gives up and is ready to switch the subject. Then Erik says, “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Raoul smiles with his teeth, flipping his phone out. “Well, I have. Some family dinner apparently.”

“Then what are _you_ doing here?”

Raoul stands to leave, slinging his bag easily over his shoulder. “Maybe I was hoping to see you.” He flashes one more smile before waving and leaving Erik to muse on what the fuck he meant.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone is staring. Raoul grins. The advantages of being wealthy and incapable of making bad decisions. He doesn’t want to be one of those people that flaunts their privileges wherever they go. But today is an exception.

He walks into theatre letting himself enjoy the stares. Why were they staring? Well he bleached his hair. Nothing big, just except all his curls were yellow-white. He smiles as he slides up to Christine. The girl clicks her locker shut, turns around and gasps. “Raoul!”

She immediately cards her fingers through his hair. He lets her, tilting his head down.

“It’s gorgeous you look amazing.”

“Back to you.” He says, lightly kissing her cheek. He spots Meg around the corner and he smiles cheekily, shaking his head wildly. Her jaw drops and she all but thunders down the hallway.

“You look fake and plastic, like a pristine Ken doll with longer hair.” 

Raoul laughs, handing her his coffee cup while he takes a light bow in mockery. “Well I just had this sudden urge to do something bold.”

Christine links her arm through his and smiles. “Well you’ve got to take care of it or those locks will die and you’ll grow bald.”

“No one will love me then.” He sighs mockingly.

They have art history together first period, so they enter class together. Meg and Christine take the seats next to each other by the door. Raoul prefers somewhere a little quieter, so he settles for a window seat third from the back.

Class is boring.

History was boring.

He sits staring idly at his book, leg jerking, pencil twirling. He zones out all the way until the bell rings. Raoul is suddenly struck with a thought - what would Erik think of his hair?

He chides himself almost immediately. What does a guy think of another guy’s hair? What were they, twelve year-old girls?

He had a free half hour, while the other two girls had dance. He didn’t really know what to do. Raoul leans back in his chair, sighing and running a hand through his hair. He hears a cough somewhere by the door, and turning to look, he is rather surprised.

It’s Erik, thank goodness. The masked man steps in cautiously and looks around.

Raoul grins, offering a small wave. “No one’s around.”

Erik nods, moving through the tables and chairs to sit beside Raoul. Before he can stop himself, he points at his hair, “what do you think?” 

Erik stares again, giving him a once over that had Raoul biting his lip in anticipation. 

“Blonde is better.” He says quietly.

Huh. Guess he wasn’t bleaching anymore. 

Raoul leans forward, hair falling into his eyes. Pale strands fall closely to Erik’s face, just close enough. “The ladies love it though.”

There’s a slight quirking in the corner of Erik’s mouth and Raoul grins brightly.

“I suppose.” He murmurs.

Raoul swivels in his chair to face Erik completely, legs sprawled out facing the other man. He watches Erik watch him, and for a slight moment they don’t say anything.

Then Erik slips a brown folder from inside his black overcoat and holds it out to Raoul. 

Raising a brow, he takes the folder and flips it open.

It’s a composition. Erik literally composed one whole song. Raoul looks through the notes, a melody forming in his mind. It was brilliant. Quite different from the one he heard the other day on the piano. This one was soft, warm, the notes high and soulful.

“I was thinking that we should do this for the final.” 

Raoul laughs, eyes focusing back on Erik. He raises the sheets in one hand, “this is amazing. You’re quite the genius Erik.”

The ‘genius’ gives a slight smile, a bit unsure but proud all the same. Raoul thinks that Erik deserves some recognition, and definitely had the potential to be a composer. The guy deserved it.

“We need words to go with it.”

Raoul nods. He hands them back to Erik. “I’ve got the tune. I’ll think of something.”

Erik smiles at him more, and Raoul can’t help but smile back. He can’t really see Erik’s face, but the uncovered side is absolutely stunning. Maybe he just likes a mysterious man.

Raoul leans forward to get a closer look. Erik suddenly raises his hand and runs it through the left fringe falling slightly over Raoul’s eyes. He pushes the hair back and Raoul lets him. He feels all his breath leave him.

“It’s soft.” Erik murmurs. In that one moment Raoul couldn’t think. He stares, eyes wide as he looks at Erik. His head instinctively tilts more into his hand.

Their little bubble of sweet silence is broken when Erik leans away and draws back to himself. His chair squeaks on the floor. Raoul can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

He just about stands up to leave for his next class when Erik tugs him back.

“Wha–“

Then he feels two hands clasp his shoulders. Erik sifts his fingers gently through Raoul’s hair. He is terribly close, warm breath hitting his neck when fingers pull his hair back. Raoul stands there and lets Erik tie his hair up. 

It’s gentle, intimate even, and Raoul feels himself wanting more touch when Erik tightens the ribbon. It’s a black, thin piece of silk that holds his curls firmly in place.

When Erik is done, Raoul spins around with a lopsided smile and a heart that beats so loudly he feels giddy.

Erik is staring at him with a smile that lifts at one corner of his mouth. Raoul shakes his head and laughs.

“Thank you”, he says, reaching up to pat his hair, “but I gotta leave you, I’m late for class.” He says. Erik chuckles and waves him away.

He pats Erik’s shoulder and slips out of the class with a stupid grin and a short, messy bob for a ponytail.

 

**

 

They’re at a coffee shop a little outside campus.

Meg drags her latte close to her and takes a sip. Christine sits besides her, frantically scribbling on paper. Raoul comes over happily, dropping his bag and putting two banana muffins on the table.

“Afternoon pick me up.”

The girls cheer and pull one to themselves. Raoul settles in his seat with his own coffee. He leans back in his seat and smiles.

Meg looks up from her muffin suspiciously. “You’re on next level happy. What’s up?”

That gets Christine’s attention too, and she looks up curiously, pen still twitching in her hand. Raoul grins and shrugs.

“Can’t a guy have a good day?”

“Uh huh.” Meg nods, eyes rolling as she drinks her coffee. She just finished dance practice, and sat with one stocking-ed leg crossed over the other. They sit in companionable silence, occasionally swapping stories and peering at Christine’s paper.

After awhile, as the afternoon crowd began to thin out, Christine places her pen on the table and sighs.

“Do any of you have plans tomorrow?”

“I have dinner with mom, why?” Meg asks as Raoul shakes his head.

She grins, reaching into her purse to pull out some tickets. “Well I got us free tickets to the opera downtown. A new show just opened.”

Meg gasps and immediately pulls out her phone. “I’m cancelling dinner with mom.”

 

**

 

The next day was a Saturday, and the opera started at 8 o’clock in the evening. They meet at the entrance in evening dress.

Christine is gorgeous, full-length cream dress with lacing around the bodice. Her hair curls loosely around the tie holding it in place. She smiles delicately, slipping her hand around Raoul’s offered elbow.

Meg takes the other one and they enter the golden palace that houses; night after night, artistic performances that attunes to the soul.

All three of them shuffle in, grinning and jostling each other.

“I heard there’s a guest performer.” Christine says as they edge their way to their seats.

“Like a famous one?”

“I’m not sure, but his voice is said to be ‘sweet poison’, truly ‘ethereal’.”

“Huh.” Raoul smiles at Christine’s air-quotes. If this guest performer’s voice is truly what it is, then they are in for a real treat.

Heavy velvet curtains crank upwards to reveal a dark stage– footsteps echo to the centre of the platform. Lights.

In a moment, spotlights flicker on and off. An organ belts out a minor chord somewhere below. It startles everyone.

Raoul feels himself exhale. It isn’t a sigh of relief, but more like a readying for something to strike. His fingers lace tightly and he doesn’t know why he’s afraid.

The next few chords melt into one another, repeating, changing tempo; never truly different, but never truly the same.

Then the lights dim down to a lone spotlight, it’s orange glow illuminating a circle on the ground.

A voice floods the room. It’s a man, a tenor? No, a baritone, a voice which came from deep within a person, vibrato echoing through the room, and echoing through Raoul’s head.

“ _Never thought...”_

It’s awfully familiar. His heart is pounding, such exhilaration.

There is no person on the stage. The music is playing its own tune.

The words are sweet, painfully oblivious to the tragedy that is the real world. The singer is stuck in a fantasy.

He sings about a lover, a first love perhaps.

_“...until my dying day.”_

It is a prelude. Perhaps to the final song.

The voice fissures out, and the stage lights flare up to reveal a whole cast singing in harmony.

The opera continues on as all operas go.

Raoul puts a hand against his sternum, turning to look at Christine and Meg. Meg seems unaffected, eyes following the performers’ movements. But Christine, Christine felt it too, he can see it in her expression.

His friend turns to him open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

Lethal. He craves for more, yet the depth of that voice will leave him spinning in circles. Sweet poison indeed.

The rest of the performance is a whirlwind of love and romance. It has a happy ending.

 

People file out of the opera house after giving their standing ovation to the performance. Raoul sits in his seat, coming down from a high, just like every other time he watches a play, an opera, anything theatrical.

This time however him mind is not only in a blissful state, but it lingers, all the way back to the start of the opera.

A guest singer.

Who on earth could it have been?

He waves his two friends off as they run to catch the last bus. Raoul doesn’t feel like leaving just yet. He sits on the steps of the opera house entrance, near the corner, leaning against a pillar.

The night is young. Couples stream out of the place, laughing and smiling. In the darkness, the brightly lit arch of the opera house gives off a rather romantic vibe. It leaves Raoul with a deep set ache in his chest sitting there alone.

The last people leave, and the doors close behind him. Raoul slips off his dark trench coat and folds it once over his lap. The air is crisp. He breathes in deeply, exhaling. He closes his eyes and hums a lingering tune he can remember.

He hears footsteps around the corner, and opens his eyes to see a dark figure turn around the corner of the opera house.

Raoul’s eyes widen when he sees a familiar porcelain mask come into view. His arm immediately raises to wave at the masked figure, who stops short abruptly.

The blonde frowns. He half expected him to turn and walk away, but he came closer to Raoul, a few steps down.

“What are you doing here?”

_Ah, the voice of an angel._

Raoul shrugs, and leans back more solidly against the pillar.

“It’s early.”

“It’s coming to midnight.” Erik deadpans.

“Early.” Raoul grins easily. He tilts his head up, but his eyes lower, staying on Erik’s figure. He closes his knees to himself more, an indication for Erik to sit. The phantom does, settling quietly on the offered space.

He leans forward, hands clasped loosely on his thighs. If Raoul looks closely enough he can see the puffs of air from which they breathe out in the chill.

“How was the performance?”

“What?”

“You turned from the corner there”, Raoul jerks his head in the direction Erik had come from, “I assumed you came out from the back door.”

Erik is silent for a moment. But Erik’s silent for many other moments that Raoul is getting used to it. 

“It was lacking in purpose.”

“Really, how?”

“They sing and sing and perform, but it’s just a performance. There is no meaning behind such aimless art.” He voices blandly.

“Well the crowd certainly enjoyed it.”

“And yourself?”

Erik turns to look at Raoul. His eyes stare unblinking at him, and the weight of his gaze startles Raoul.

“It was alright.” He thinks for a second, then says, “but you know what I enjoyed the most?”

Erik remains silent.

“The performer in the beginning.” 

That seems to catch Erik’s attention, it’s very slight, but his shoulders tense.

“How so?”

“A voice like the angel of music. And the depth which he conveyed? I could hear his emotions. That’s pretty incredible.”

Erik continues staring noiselessly, and after awhile his eye crinkles and he says slowly, “angel of music?”

“Well one can assume.”

Raoul shrugs, leaning closer and raising his eyebrows. His cheeks are warm, and he knows his face is probably turning pink.

Erik smiles and eases himself back against the pillar. Their shoulders touch, and Raoul wants to put his arm around Erik so badly. Or lean his head on his shoulder or something.

But this is the closest they have been physically. He doesn’t want to ruin something that was going so well. Instead he stays where he is, leaning a part of his weight on Erik’s shoulder.

They spend the rest of the night watching the sky, the occasional passers-by, and don’t go back until early morning.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think:)


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